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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26063500">Dueling Lessons</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/gaslightgallows'>gaslightgallows (hearts_blood)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Flirting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Gen, Swordplay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:41:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26063500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/gaslightgallows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As they get to know one another better, Csethiro suggests that she also get to know Maia's nieces.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Csethiro Ceredin/Maia Drazhar, Idra Drazhar &amp; Maia Drazhar &amp; Ino Drazhin &amp; Mireän Drazhin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dueling Lessons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivendellrose/gifts">rivendellrose</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Rivendellrose has been trying to get me to read this book since it was published, and I finally did. So naturally I demanded prompts in recompense. She asked for Csethiro teaching one of Maia's niece to duel. And... I tried!</p><p>Comments are deeply appreciated, btw, even if it’s just to say ‘I liked it’. ♥</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It became Maia’s habit, following the drama of his first Winternight as emperor of the Elflands, and once his wife-to-be decided that he no longer needed <i>quite</i> so many dancing lessons, to hold small intimate suppers one evening a week in his private dining room in the Alcethmeret. Sometimes he entertained several people, sometimes only a few, but nearly every week, Csethiro Ceredin was at the table. </p><p>If it was only the two of them at supper, she sat opposite him, where he had the privilege of listening to her speak until the small hours of the morning on all manner of topics, while he forgot about his meal and tried not to drown in her brilliant blue eyes. If there were others at table, she sat at his right, and though she had other social obligations on such evenings, it was worth it to Maia, to be able to sometimes, quickly and surreptitiously and not always entirely secretly, squeeze her hand under the embroidered tablecloth.</p><p>His secretary and all of his nohecharei always noticed, and he suspected that they desperately wanted to tease him about it. His nephew Prince Idra also always seemed to notice, and as he and Maia grew closer, Idra did not <i>hesitate</i> to tease him. </p><p>“You should be careful,” Csethiro playfully warned the prince, one night after the rest of the guests had taken their leave and the three of them were alone at table, lingering over dessert. “For someday your uncle will find you a wife, and you will make just such a fool of yourself, and he will be as shameless in laughing at you.”</p><p>Idra and Maia both blushed, stamping their utterly dissimilar features with a moment of family resemblance. “If I am so fortunate as to someday have such a wife as to be worth making a fool of myself over,” said Idra, half-bold and half-shy, as only a fourteen-year-old boy could be, “I should thank my uncle profusely for his choice, and not mind the teasing.”</p><p>“Well spoken, cousin,” Maia said gratefully. </p><p>After that, the conversation turned, not unnaturally, to the impending nuptials of Edrehasivar VII and Dach’osmin Csethiro Ceredin, which were to take place that spring. The date was fast approaching – only four months hence, now – and Maia’s free time was being increasingly encroached upon by the needs of planning and preparation and detail. Among his family, he felt free to grumble about it. </p><p>And it still felt immeasurably odd to Maia that he had something resembling a family now. </p><p>When he eventually took his leave to return to the nursery, Csethiro watched Idra depart the emperor’s private supper table with a wry expression on her face. “I think him the one person in all the Untheileneise court who most fervently does not wish our marriage barren.”</p><p>Maia’s smile was lopsided. “He does not want to be emperor. And yet that may still be his fate.”</p><p>“Oh? Know you something that I do not?”</p><p>She was teasing him, and he knew she was teasing him, but he had not the heart to reply with anything but the plain truth. “I was thinking of my grandfather, with naught but daughters on both sides of the blanket.”</p><p>“And my father,” Csethiro agreed, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “At least so far. My stepmother’s pregnancy bodes well for me in one respect: that she is likely to be brought to bed near enough to our wedding day that I will not have to strain myself to be polite to her after the ceremony. With any luck, my father will choose not to leave her side, for fear of missing the birth of his sought-after heir. Though with <i>his</i> luck, it will be another girl.” She turned her brilliant blue eyes on Maia, and he found himself once again in danger of drowning. “Thou wilt forgive the question, I hope, but what will be my fate, should I bear thee only daughters?”</p><p>Maia sipped his tea and considered his reply. That he believed Csethiro to already know the answer instinctively was the only reason he wasn’t mortified by her asking, but given the legacies left to them by their families, they would both feel better for having the question out in the open, and for a chance to lay it to rest. “Thy fate is to be my wife and empress, whether thee bear me daughters, sons, or no children at all. I hope,” he added, gently earnest, “that it will prove none so terrible a fate. I know thou were given no choice in the matter of marrying me.”</p><p>She laughed, to his great relief. “In the matter of marrying thee, no, that was not of my choosing. But everything that has come to pass between us since then, that has been entirely of my choosing and my own free will. And,” she added regally, drawing herself up tall in her chair, “my pleasure.”</p><p>“Thou hast my gratitude, Csethiro,” Maia murmured, his cheeks warm from more than the steam rising from his cup. “I would not have thee think me like my forebears.”</p><p>“I do not,” she replied, with some force. “I do not fear that thou wilt send me away an I give thee only daughters. Nor do I fear thou wilt seek elsewhere for sons.” Maia snorted. “Thou laughs, but I think thou hast neither heard nor seen the gossip among the court since Winternight. There are many noble ladies who envy me now, where before they scorned, or even pitied. I scorn them all in return, of course.”</p><p>“Of course,” said Maia, his cheeks warmer and his smile wider than ever. He <i>had</i> heard the gossip, and from a number of different sources, but he had not heard it from his fiancée, nor had anyone carried tales of her reactions. If she praised him anymore, he would have to run and hide, to preserve his dignity. </p><p>Csethiro saw his struggle, took pity on him, and changed the subject. “And what are your plans for Idra’s sisters? You are their guardian as much as his.”</p><p>“For the moment, I plan to let my nieces be children.” It was far easier for Maia to think of Mireän and Ino as his nieces, than it was to think of Idra as his nephew, even after half a year of getting to know him and earning his trust. They were simply too close in age; Idra would be sixteen next year, a legal adult, and would require rooms and staff of his own, outside of the Alcethmeret’s nursery. And though they had joked of the boy’s marriage earlier, it was still something he would have to consider, and sooner than he liked… “They’ve already lost so much, without needing to lose the rest of their girlhood to the machinations of their elders.”</p><p>Csethiro tapped her fingers on the fine inlaid table, though with anxiety or impatience, Maia was unsure. When she spoke at last, barking her words like a commander, her request was not what he expected. “Wouldst mind if I spent time with thy nieces, Maia? Nay, no need for thee to speak,” she continued, grinning at him, “thy delight is answer enough.”</p><p>“I think they will be overjoyed,” said Maia, very seriously, trying to reschool his expression into something less obvious.</p><p>“I can only hope that they are as eager to love me as they have been to love thee.”</p><p>“I’m not sure if ‘eager’ is the right word...”</p><p>“Maia. Those little girls adore thee.”</p><p>He rolled his shoulders in an uncomfortable shrug. “They’ve had little choice. There is no one left to care for them.”</p><p>“Thou hast no experience of girl-children. They do not love out of obligation, not at that age.” She grimaced. “As I well remember.”</p><p>“Hmm. And dost thou love out of obligation at thy current age?”</p><p>“I do <i>not</i>,” said Csethiro, and rose. “Serenity, it has been our honor to sup with you, but we have surely kept you awake long enough this evening.” She curtsied deeply. “We beg your permission to retire to our apartments.”</p><p>Maia stood up and offered her his hand. “It has been a pleasure and a joy, Dach’osmin Ceredin, as ever.” He looked at her with a kind of soft dismay. There was so much more he wanted to say… but more would not be proper, not now. Not yet. And there were some improprieties that even a forward-thinking woman like his wife-to-be would not accept. Not for her own sake, but for his. “Good night.”</p><p>He stood for a few moments more after she had left, wondering, or perhaps hoping, if… But then his edocharei swept in to cajole him into a hasty bath and then into bed, and the thought was lost.</p>
<hr/><p>It was perhaps a week later that little Ino, Idra’s youngest sister, who was now nine years old and small for her age, came running out of the Alcethmeret’s nursery to meet Maia and Idra as they returned from a ride through the gardens, now beginning to tentatively unfold their leaves and blossoms to meet the coming of spring. “Oh please, <i>please</i> don’t be mad, Cousin Maia,” she pleaded, somehow managing to curtsy to him as emperor even as she wheedled at him as a worried niece to her uncle. “I told them you wouldn’t like it, but Dach’osmin Ceredin insisted!”</p><p>Maia blinked. Idra frowned and helped his sister to her feet. “Ino, what—?”</p><p>The child’s nurse appeared from behind the nursery grille. “Serenity, please forgive this intemperance,” said Sular, making her own reverences to him. “Ino, you were supposed to wait until we could speak with your uncle in private. We are sure he has many obligations he must see to before he can be troubled with us.”</p><p>“There is no trouble,” said Maia, more than willing to be distracted by domestic duties, as he had a number of deeply unpleasant meetings to sit through that afternoon. “But exactly what has Dach’osmin Ceredin done?”</p><p>Ino and Sular looked at one another, plainly uncomfortable. After a few seconds, Ino bravely opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Maia heard a ringing metallic clash, followed by Csethiro’s equally ringing voice calling out, “Well done!”</p><p>Idra looked equal parts horrified and awed. “Oh, she didn’t, she <i>couldn’t</i>,” he groaned, and hurried into the nursery proper. Ino and Sular rushed after him with Maia following more slowly, his nohecharei trailing after him. He was fighting a grin and he suspected that at least one of the bodyguards behind him was doing the same. Not Beshelar, who no doubt was wearing an expression of downright disgust and didn’t care who saw it. But he thought perhaps Cala might be amused. A maza was required to have more of an open mind about things than a soldier, after all.</p><p>In the main living area of the nursery, the furniture had been pushed back and the carpets rolled up to expose a large, clear patch of floor in the center of the room, and there they found Csethiro Ceredin, daughter of the Marquess of Ceredel and betrothed of the emperor, and Mireän Drazhin, niece of Edrehasivar VII, each with a blunt-edged fencing saber in their hand, moving through a careful and precise set of practice forms. </p><p>Mireän looked up at the audience that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and dropped her sword with a squeak of fright. </p><p>“Oh, damn,” said Csethiro, lowering her saber with a grimace. “I thought we had more time.”</p><p>Maia struggled to control himself. Inside, he was howling with delight, but he knew better than to give way. The servants would be scandalized and the children would be confused, if not actually frightened. “When you said you wished to spend time with our nieces, Dach’osmin Ceredin,” he said instead, and very dryly, too, “this is not at all what we expected.”</p><p>“Cousin Maia,” said Mireän, taking an uncertain step forward, “I’m sorry, I—Dach’osmin, I mean, Cousin Csethiro was telling me about cavaliers, and I asked about dueling, and—oh!” She clamped her lips shut, clearly feeling that she was making the situation worse, and turned to look at Csethiro beseechingly.</p><p>“And I offered to show her a practical demonstration,” said Csethiro grimly, though there was a certain sparkle in her eyes that Maia couldn’t fail to notice. She gave him a deep curtsey, complete with a flourish of the saber. “We beg Your Serenity’s pardon. We realize this is not appropriate behavior for the niece of the emperor.”</p><p>“It is certainly not the appropriate place for dueling practice,” said Maia. “Did you enjoy yourself, Mireän?”</p><p>Mireän’s eyes grew very wide, and from behind him, Maia heard several sharp intakes of breath (Beshelar, Sular and Ino) and one quickly muffled giggle (Idra). “I… yes, Cousin Maia.” She drew herself up straight. “I think I like dueling. But the practice sword is very heavy.”</p><p>“Perhaps,” Idra ventured, his face and voice carefully controlled, “if Cousin Maia agrees, smaller practice blades and a better place for dueling practice could be found?”</p><p>“I will ask Mer Aisava,” Maia said, imagining that Csevet’s reaction to the request would be memorable – he might go so far as to blink in astonishment, before applying himself to the task. Then he looked down at Ino, who had crept up to Csethiro and was examining her practice saber with worried fascination. “Teachers, as well. If he can find any who can be convinced to teach a pair of small girls.”</p><p>“If he cannot,” Csethiro declared, “I will teach them myself, as my duties permit. If Your Serenity agrees.”</p><p>“Oh, we do,” said Maia blithely, and was rewarded both with the approbation of his nieces and nephew, and with Lieutenant Beshelar muttering dire predictions under his breath. </p>
<hr/><p>“Perhaps I should take dueling lessons from you as well,” the emperor commented, later that evening, towards the end of an increasingly rare private supper with his fiancée. “I mean it,” he added, when she responded with a most unqueenly snort.</p><p>Csethiro smiled. “We would be honored, Serenity. Although we do not think you would learn much from us.”</p><p>“I can think of no one better,” said Maia, truthfully enough, since he could not think of anyone else at all, and in spite of (or perhaps because of) her explanations, still had no clear idea of how Csethiro had learned in the first place. Whoever had dared to train her, she was not saying. “Did you not teach me to dance?”</p><p>“We did, but dueling is...”</p><p>He looked at her for a long moment, and then asked, gently respecting her need for formality, “Do you fear to hurt our person?”</p><p>“No, Serenity. We fear we will become... distracted.” Maia continued to look, and to his surprise, Csethiro looked down. Her strong fingers toyed with her little silver-gilt dessert fork. “When we taught you to dance, we did not know you so well as we knew you now. And we fear... perhaps dueling lessons should wait until after our wedding.”</p><p>All in a rush of blood, Maia understood. “Tell me,” he said, pressing his advantage, for it was rare for Csethiro to leave herself so unguarded, “when didst thou decide I was worth so much of thy time and trouble?”</p><p>A muscle in her jaw tensed. "When thou told me that thou knew Min Vechero was using thee. I had believed thee a spineless fool before that. Thy spirit was unexpected, and thy canniness was... attractive. And then when we spoke at the Winternight Ball, I saw that thou wert kind as well as canny, inclined to forgiveness and gentleness. I had not thought to find such in any husband, let alone in thee.” Her white cheeks were very red. “An thou look at me like that any longer, I shall fear for my virtue.”</p><p>“An I look at thee like what?”</p><p>“As though thou wouldst devour me.”</p><p>Maia forced his hands, his entire body, to remain perfectly composed and still. But his eyes, gray and longingly hungry, betrayed him, and without thinking, said, “...Perhaps I would.” And then fervently prayed that he would melt into the floor.</p><p>Startled, Csethiro looked up at him. “Thou’rt a terrible flirt,” she said in her blunt way. Maia began to protest, that he hadn’t intended to flirt at all, that all he had meant was… but he didn’t quite know <i>what</i> he’d meant. “No, I mean, thou’rt not good at this. But,” she added, as she often had during their dancing lessons, though the flush that rose to her cheeks now was not from so innocent a cause, “thou’rt getting better.”</p>
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